


Request: One Motorcycle

by TeamHPForever



Series: The Art of Motorcycle Borrowing [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Motorcycle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1954506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil has a promise that he intends to keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Request: One Motorcycle

**Author's Note:**

> "We Can't..." was meant to be a one-shot only but then lola381pce mentioned Coulson in bike leathers and, well...how could I resist that?

Clint knows something’s up when Coulson disappears for an afternoon and leaves behind a note that says “Out for a drive.” Usually when Coulson goes out for a drive, Clint goes _with_ him. Though there doesn’t usually end up being much driving.

With nothing better to do, Clint wanders around his little apartment outside of SHIELD headquarters and polishes his bows. It’s almost dinnertime and he’s trying to decide if he should keep waiting when his phone dings. There are only two people who would ever text him, but he’s pretty sure he knows exactly which one it is.

_Meet me outside._

Clint’s out the door in seconds only to find Coulson sitting on a motorcycle parked on the curb. It looks brand new—all shiny chrome and slick black leather. But it’s nothing compared to Coulson. He’s abandoned his usual suit-coat but not the white shirt and tie. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms tight with muscle. His legs are clad in tight-fitting black leather pants that make Clint’s mouth run dry.

“What are you doing, Phil?” Clint asks, stepping carefully down the concrete stairs. He’d hate to interrupt this with a split skull but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off Coulson for something as simple as watching where he’s stepping.

Coulson looks down at the bike and fires it up. “Are you coming or not?”

Clint doesn’t need to be asked twice. He crosses the sidewalk in two strides and throws his leg over the back of the bike, sliding down into position behind Coulson. The bike purrs between his legs as Coulson steadies it and launches them out into the road.

Clint wraps his arms tighter around Coulson’s waist than he really needs to. He glances down at Coulson’s thighs, bulging underneath the black leather, and can’t resist the urge to slip his hands lower to hook them through his belt loops. They’re going slow enough through the city that he can hear Coulson chuckle.

Once they’ve hit the more isolated roads beyond, Coulson really lets it go. Clint laughs as the wind whips around him. In the eight months they’ve been officially dating and three months living together, he’d thought he had Coulson all figured out.

Sitting here with slick leather beneath his hands and a roaring motorcycle between their legs, he’s realizing that Coulson can still surprise him. He loves that about him.

It isn’t long before they’re turning off on a dirt road, then another, and then Coulson’s pulling over in a grassy lot surrounded by nothing but trees.

“Did you bring me to a make-out spot for horny teenagers?” Clint asks as he takes in the view.

Coulson laughs, kicking down the stand and shutting the bike off. Everything seems too quiet without the steady rumble of the engine. “Just trying to help you get caught up on things you missed.”

“I don’t think this was quite on my bucket list, but…” Clint’s fingers let go of his belt loops, sliding down. The pants are tight but Clint can just feel that Coulson is hard beneath them. He nips at the back of Coulson’s neck. “Where’d you get the bike?”

“It’s officially yours.” His voice cracks as Clint palms his erection. “I’m just taking it for a spin to make sure everything is in working order.”

“Is that so.” Clint sucks at the back of Coulson’s neck as his hands find the zipper of his pants and pulls it down. He reaches in, slipping his hand past Coulson’s usual boxers, and wraps his hand around his length.

Coulson lets out a sound that’s _clearly_ a whine as his head drops back against Clint’s shoulder. Clint pushes the leather pants down just enough to release Coulson’s cock and the man lets out a sigh of relief disguised as a low hiss. “I did promise that I would requisition one, didn’t I?”

“You did, _sir._ ” Clint strokes steadily, but firmly. All he can think about is how much he’d like to _fuck_ Coulson in those damn pants but that would require taking the pants off and he’s not really up for that at the moment. Maybe later, when they’re alone and he can strip them off nice and slow.

Instead he slides the ground, hitting his knees in the dirt right next to the bike. Coulson swings his leg over so he’s sitting to the side. Clint can feel the heat radiating from the bike’s engine and swings Coulson’s legs over his shoulders so he can get in close without either of them risking burns.

He doesn’t want _anything_ interrupting this moment. Coulson runs his fingers through Clint’s hair, making it stand up even more than it is already. Clint leans over and takes Coulson in, pressing his tongue in exactly the right spots. Sure enough, Coulson’s hands clutch eagerly in his hair, holding him in place.

Clint’s lost count of the number of times he’s sucked Coulson off, but there’s something completely new about seeing the black leather flashing in front of his eyes. He rests his hands against Coulson’s thighs, nails digging in.

“Clint,” Coulson gasps. Clint hollows his cheeks and barely has time to prepare himself before Coulson is coming down his throat. Clint pulls away slowly and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Coulson throws his leg over the bike so he’s facing backwards and practically pulls Clint up in front of him. The agent straddles the bike, almost falling into Coulson’s lap as Coulson struggles to get a hand down the other man’s pants.

Clint’s so hard he barely makes it through three strokes and then he’s coming all over his shirt and pants. It’s messy and sticky but it feels so good that he can’t bring himself to care.

“Not going to be a pleasant ride home,” Clint remarks with a wry smile that Coulson wipes away with a hard kiss. Clint slides himself back and his hands go for Coulson’s ass, guiding his boyfriend down onto his lap. “Where have you been hiding these pants?”

Coulson shrugs and then smirks at him. “I have a few things that you haven’t seen yet. Do you like them?”

Clint digs his fingernails in. “I fucking _love_ them. I can’t wait to take you home and get you out of them.”

“Then I guess we’d better get going them.” Coulson’s knees shake a bit as he turns himself around and fires up the bike again. Clint nips at the back of his neck as he hooks his fingers through Coulson’s belt loops again just before they take off.


End file.
